


It's Complicated Because We Make it So

by madsthenerdygirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 07:41:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6365254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why don't you try to sort out your feelings while dealing with your sex-crazed wild child cousin and a pack of bloodthirsty alpha werewolves?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted on fanfiction.net in 2012 when I was eighteen and is now being crossposted here along with the rest of my work. In all honesty, I have never seen a single episode of Teen Wolf, but learned about it through tumblr and kind of got sucked into shipping Sterek, the result being this.

"Stiles!"

The youngest member of the Stilinski household (Population: 2) looked up from his book.

"Yeah?"

"Come help me set up the guest room!" His dad called.

A guest? Stiles set down  _Lycanthropy and You_ , a joke guide to living with werewolves similar to  _The Zombie Survival Guide_. Some of it was the usual rubbish but other bits were surprisingly accurate, leading Stiles to re-read it and write down notes. He'd ask Derek about it the next time he saw the guy. The big, hunky brooder hadn't been around the past few days. Not that Stiles cared. Or missed him. Not at all.

He crossed the hall to the guest room to find his dad putting clean sheets on the unused bed. He looked up as he heard Stiles enter.

"Great." Sheriff Stilinski turned and snatched up a spray bottled of window cleaner, chucking it at his son. "I want those windows spotless. I already dusted so all that you have to do is vacuum."

"Seriously?" Stiles was more than a little annoyed at this. Cleaning was not his thing. Annoying the hell out of certain Alpha werewolves? Sure, anytime, anywhere. Cleaning? Not so much.

"Who's visiting?" He asked.

"Cassie," his dad replied.

Oh, boy.

Oh boy oh boy oh boy.

Cousin Cassie.

"Really? How long is she staying?"

"About a week. She's on a cross-country road trip and decided to stop by."

Oh, man. They were in for it now.

There were several reasons why having Cassandra "Cassie" Stilinski in Beacon Hills, CA, was a bad idea.

First and foremost was Cassie's sexuality. Cassie had sex. All the time. With anyone. In fact, her only rule was that they had to be single. Except for threesomes; she'd had her first threesome when she was sixteen. Boys, girls, whatever--Cassie was on it. Sometimes, literally.

Not only was it extremely irksome for Stiles, Mr. Never Been Kissed Never Mind Grand-Slammed, to hear every dirty detail of his nineteen-year-old cousin's exploits, but if you were to throw her in with the crazy hormone pool that was a bunch of teenage werewolves, well… even Stiles didn't want to set that bomb off it he could help it. He could pictures his cousin easily working her way through the pack, except for Scott and Allison, who were too tight-knit for that. And Derek. Not even Cassie-nova could melt that block of icy wolf badassery. At least… He hoped not.

Reason number two as to why having Cassie around sent up red flags and huge sirens wailing and signs flashing "warning" was that Cassie was curious. Like, Curious George levels of insatiable inquisitiveness. Everyone thought Stiles was bad, but they had no idea. Cassie would figure out what was going on with Stiles and the pack in two seconds, if that.

Numero tres was that Cassie was the single most determined and mule-headed person that Stiles knew. Part of him wanted to watch her go head-to-head with Derek over something. That'd be fun. Heck, Stiles would even bring popcorn to watch  _that_  battle.

Yes, Stiles had good reason to be worried about Cassie visiting.

And, as often happened to him since, well, ever, his worst fears were confirmed and everything went downhill from the beginning.

"So this is your room, huh? Nice."

"Uh-huh." Stiles replied, flinging Cassie's surprisingly small and rather light backpack onto her bed in the guest room. His dad was working, so he was the one welcoming Cassie and getting her settled.

"Nice pile of laundry you got--holy fuck!" Cassie screamed mid-sentence. This was followed by a very loud thump.

Stiles barreled into his room to find Cassie had her heel planted firmly on someone's back, their arms held behind them in her hands and a can of mace pointed at their face. When Stiles came around to the side, he found that the person was a slightly confused and very pissed off Derek Hale. The older male's eyes turned and focused laser like on Stiles.

"Stiles," he said slowly, "Who is this?"

"This is my cousin, Cassie."

Derek gave him a look.

"Dude, she really is my cousin. I swear." Stiles put his hands up.

Cassie lowered the mace, released Derek's hands and stepped away, nothing the rather intense look that Derek was giving her cousin. "Um, Stiles, who is this?" She asked. "And why did he creep through your window?"

Stiles groaned. "Derek, c'mon, man. The window is not a door. You can knock."

Derek just did that staring thing of his. Stiles sighed again and turned to his cousin.

"This is my, uh…" His what? Sometimes ally? Pain in the butt? Creepy semi-stalker? Random smokin' hot dude? Local alpha werewolf? "This is Derek."

Cassie's eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them. "Hi," she finally said slowly.

"How'd you learn to do that?" Stiles asked. Seriously, anyone who could get the drop on Derek Hale had his respect for life.

"Between the pickpockets in Europe, the animals in Africa, the political unrest in South America and the rapists in the good ol' U.S. of A., I decided I needed to learn a few things," Cassie said, still looking from one boy to the other like they were a puzzle she couldn't quite figure out.

Cassie had, indeed, gone to all of those continents. She'd decided that she wanted to spend her life traveling and had promptly gotten her GED and an Associate's Degree in Liberal Arts by the time she was sixteen, getting emancipated from her mother and had set off to globe-trot. She'd backpacked all over Europe and Asia, taken every damn safari in Africa and begged, borrowed, and stolen her way through South America before ending up back in her country of origin.

Stiles didn't realize that he was explaining all of this out loud to Derek until he realized that Derek was giving him his classic  _shut up before I make you_  face and Cassie was staring at him like he'd sprouted another head.

"Oh, I'm rambling, aren't I?" Stiles asked. "Right, yeah, shutting up now."

His filter control was about fifty percent normally, but around Derek it tended to go down to fifteen percent.

"So… where are you going next, Cassie?" Stiles asked.

Cassie frowned. "I'm going to Canada and Alaska in the fall, after I finish with the U.S. Then I'm going to island hop from Hawaii all over Oceania before I end up in Australia in time for spring."

"Nice." Stiles nodded fervently.

Derek still said nothing.

Cassie gestured. "Look, should I leave you two alone or something? Let you boys get to it?"

Upon getting no answer, she opted for a swift exit. Stiles could hear her enter the guest room, heard a zipper being pulled down and assumed that she was digging into her backpack. He cleared his throat.

"So what's up? Finally gracing me with your presence after however many days of–"

"There's an alpha pack in Beacon Hills," Derek cut in.

"Wait--what? What's an alpha pack? How'd you learn about them? Why are you coming to me? What–"

Derek once again cut him off, this time by striding forwards and covering Stiles' mouth with his hand. Stiles tried very hard not to focus on the heat radiating off of the older man's body, or how his hand felt against his skin and lips. Now that he was focused solely on Derek, he was able to take in the werewolf's condition. Derek was extremely tense, and not just normal made-of-stone Derek Hale tense. This was a whole new level of suppressed emotion.

"This is serious," Derek intoned. Well, that was as close to a  _please_  as Stiles was ever going to get, so he nodded and Derek removed his hand from Stiles' mouth. Once he'd done that, Derek began to pace.

"An alpha pack is very rare. It only happens when enough werewolf packs have been decimated that only a group of alphas are left. With no packs to lead, the alphas opt to band together. It's a lot less stressful than creating a whole bunch of betas to train. Not to mention you inevitably end up with an omega, and that's added tension that you don't need…" Derek cleared his throat. "The point is that alpha packs are deadly. They don't want to deal with other packs. They don't want betas. They find a particularly large area, one with a huge hunting ground, and they stake it as their territory. It's usually about twice or three times the size of the average territory. Any other packs in the area, they kill. No negotiations."

"Seriously, that sucks," Stiles said. "But that's also stupid. I mean, they're all alphas, right? So they all want to be top dog--no pun intended. But they can't, because there's, like, ten of them, so wouldn't they end up fighting each other or something?"

Derek stared at him like he was surprised that the question was actually pretty intelligent. "Good point," he finally grunted; high praise in Derek terms. "Alpha packs can be anywhere from five to fifteen alphas strong. They work as equals, with decisions being made by voting rather than the usual chain-of-command style. But you're right--they're alphas. They can't stand not being the sole leader forever. After a while, squabbling begins and they begin to create betas to help them gain control of the pack. Several fights later, they split up, each alpha taking their betas and going their separate ways."

Stiles nodded. "Then we're back to small packs with one or two alphas, a few betas, maybe an omega, and all with their own separate territories. Hurray, balance has been restored to the universe."

Derek sighed. "Pretty much."

"So…" Stiles frowned. "You're saying that one of these kill-all-other-packs alpha groups has strolled into town?"

Derek gave one of his best brooding nods. "Yes. Which means that we're all in danger."

"We? Oh, no, buddy. I'm no werewolf, I'm fine," Stiles reminded him, putting his hands up. "And actually, both you and Jackson are safe. You're alphas, right? You can just join up."

Derek snorted. "Some alpha I am. And Jackson was turned a couple of weeks ago. They'd see us as weak. We'd never be accepted into the pack. Besides," His voice lowered into a growl, "I can't abandon the other pups. Erica and Boyd are in bad enough shape as it is, and Isaac still jumps at his own shadow. Scott's still refusing to be pack but you can bet Peter won't do a fucking thing to protect him, so it's up to me to keep the idiot safe."

Stiles sighed. "Let me guess--you want my help in keeping everyone safe, because I'm the only one with half of a brain who isn't addled by wolfy hormones, am I right?"

Derek gave him one of those looks where it was like he was straining very, very hard not to roll his eyes. "I suppose that you could put it that way. But I don't want you getting too deep into this. You're in more danger than any of us. You're human. One punch and you're out of the game."

"Hey! I'll have you know that I am much tougher than that," Stiles said, a bit miffed. "I've survived you slamming me into the wall on several occasions, and getting my forehead slammed into a steering wheel--thanks for that, by the way. I think that I could handle any little spat you wanted to get into with these alpha jerks–"

Derek really needed to find a new way to get his anger out, because Stiles was getting a little tired of feeling his back connect with the wall of his bedroom. He was going to have to see a chiropractor at this rate. Derek's face wasn't even an inch from his, those eyes dangerously close to turning a not-so-natural color.

"You will stay out of danger this time," Derek growled. This wasn't just a low man-voice growl--this was a full-on wolf growl, feral and wild and definitely not human. "Understand?"

Stiles nodded. "Uh-huh. You got it."

"Good."

Stiles frowned. "Um… how'd you find out about this pack, anyway?"

"Erica and Boyd. They barely got away--turned tail and came back to me."

"They apologized for leaving, right?"

Derek cocked his head. Stiles rolled his eyes. Hey, he could roll his eyes and still be manly, okay?

"You're not the best alpha, sure, but you really try. You care about your pack. You want to make a family. You did the best you could for them and all that they did was insult you and run off. I think a little groveling is in order now that they're hiding behind your skirts. Uh, metaphorically speaking."

Derek stared at him, but this time Stiles was surprised to realize that he couldn't read this stare. That led to him realizing that he was able to decipher the emotion or meaning behind Derek's stares, which meant that he could understand the guy better than he'd previously realized, and that just downright startled him. Luckily, Derek interrupted him before his thoughts got out of hand and started chasing each other like horny bunny rabbits.

"Thanks," he grunted.

"Anytime." Stiles nodded. A thought occurred to him. "Hey, what creates an alpha pack? I mean, what destroys all the packs so that only the strongest, wiliest alphas are left to band together?"

Derek didn't appear to have thought of that. "Usually a hunter," he said at last. "A hunter, or group of hunters, that's sweeping through."

"That would have to be one pretty destructive hunter to create an alpha pack that's got--how many members?"

"Ten."

"Right. That's at least ten packs, plus maybe more where the alphas didn't make it and the entire pack got wiped out. Shouldn't we be worried that whoever was responsible for creating this will be coming here to finish the job? I mean, ten alpha werewolves… not exactly subtle, right?"

Derek seemed to actually give this some serious thought. Before he could answer, though, Cassie reentered the room.

"Hey, Stiles, I was just--oh."

Stiles realized that Derek was still pinning him to the wall, their bodies pressed together and their faces mere breaths apart. Cassie got a sly look in her eyes.

"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Stiles, I'm taking over your shower. It's been a week since I last saw hot water." She waved a hand. "By all means, go back to what you were doing."

She winked and left the room. Stiles groaned and thumped the back of his head against the wall. This was great, just great. Not only did they have a deadly alpha pack and a possible deadly hunter out there to deal with, but his sexpot cousin now thought he was in a gay relationship with Derek Hale.

Seriously, his life kind of sucked.

Whatever Derek thought of the situation, he didn't say. He just let go of Stiles and took a step back, giving Stiles the room to breathe without having their chests crush together. "I need to check on the pups," he said. "I healed Erica and Boyd but they're still shaken up and Isaac's panicking. I'll be surprised if he hasn't texted Scott yet."

"And if Scott knows, Allison knows, and if Allison knows, Lydia knows, which means Jackson knows," Stiles recited. "Ugh."

"Just get your skinny butt over to my house as soon as possible," Derek ordered. "And if you can ditch Chrissie, all the better."

"It's Cassie, and no way. It's like trying to get rid of a leech or something. She's crazy stubborn," Stiles said. "And my butt is not skinny."

Derek ignored him, strolling over to the window. "Five o'clock--be there."

"You're not my alpha, you know!" Stiles yelled after him. "Arrogant, cocky, son of a stinking…" He mumbled.

"Sooo…" Cassie leaned against the doorframe, her hair wet and skin gleaming from the shower. "Playing for the other team, eh?"

Stiles turned and glared at her. "It's none of your business what team I'm playing for, but since you asked it's lacrosse."

Cassie shook her head. "Don't deflect, it's not a good look on you." She gave him an eager grin. "So what's up with Mr. Sneaky Pants? Does your dad know? Is that why he came in through the window?"

"We're not dating, Cassie, I swear," Stiles groaned.

"I won't tell," Cassie assured him. "How long has it been? How did you two meet? How far have you gone? You didn't do it while I was in the shower, did you? I was pretty quick and I don't smell anything so I'm guessing no…"

Stiles opened his mouth to protest again, but then he closed it. This just might be perfect. If Cassie thought that he and Derek were dating, she would focus on that and not on the other weird goings-on he and his friends got up to. She'd attribute any weird behavior to his desire to keep his supposed gay relationship a secret. That meant she wouldn't realize the  _real_ secret, because she'd be focusing on the  _fake_  secret.

Clearly, there was a God, and He was being rather nice to Stiles Stilinski today. Did this mean he'd have to go to church more often?

"Five o'clock, right? Is that when you and your friends are all hanging out?" Cassie asked. "I can come too, right?"

"Sure." Stiles nodded. "Of course."

If he'd known in advance how the evening would go, he wouldn't have been so optimistic about it.


	2. Chapter 2

"Stiles, tell Erica she needs to stop being such a bitch."

"Stiles, be a dear and tell Scott he's the biggest, wimpiest whiner and I could take him out with my pinky finger?"

"Stiles, tell her to shut up."

"No, tell him to shut up."

"Since when did I become the mediator?" Stiles demanded.

"Since you became Mom," Jackson stated, helping himself to another slice of pizza.

"How about you all shut up, and let me explain things?" Derek said.

Everyone shut up, because when the Alpha tells you to shut up, you better damn well shut up and perk up your ears. Even Allison stopped whispering in Scott's ear, although she wasn't technically pack. Lydia wasn't pack in the literal sense either, thanks to being an immune goddess and all, but she had made it clear that she wanted to be treated like she was.

Of course, Cassie didn't exactly understand the group dynamics.

"Mom?" She snorted. "He's the Mom of the group? Stiles?"

"Hey!" Stiles was more than a little offended. "I'm the most responsible person here, I'll have you know."

"Except for me," Allison piped up.

"True," Stiles conceded. "She remembers to brush her teeth twice a day."

"I told you, you don't have to remind me," Boyd muttered.

"Oh my God." Cassie looked from the rest of the group to Stiles, then back again. "You're, like, the den mother, aren't you?"

"Den Mother," Erica said slowly. She grinned evilly. "I like it."

Stiles looked desperately to Derek for help, but the guy smiled--actually fucking  _smiled--_ and Stiles felt his stomach drop. Not just because that smile was pretty much the sexiest thing he'd ever seen, either. No, he was in for it now, big time.

"I am  _not_  the den mother," Stiles protested.

"Oh, yes, you are," Scott said. "Every pack needs an alpha female, right Derek?"

Derek shrugged. "Sure. Most packs have two alphas--the female is traditionally the one who fulfills a mother-like role, but there's nothing wrong with a male taking on the alpha female duties."

"Ha!" Scott gave Stiles a triumphant grin.

Oh, Stiles was so going to kill him for this. What kind of best friend behavior was this!? He must be violating at least five rules of the Bro Code.

"Wait…" Lydia said slowly. "Aren't the alpha female and the alpha male usually mates?"

Everyone went silent at that. Stiles shot a quick look at Cassie. His cousin had a grin that was threatening to split her face open.

"Don't you think they'd make a cute couple?" She asked.

Stiles wondered if it was possible for him to melt into the couch. He was up for giving it a shot. Derek looked like someone had flash-frozen him; the guy was hard, chiseled lines and dark eyes, his face a mask that was icy and unreadable. Hoo, boy.

As usually happened when he was nervous, Stiles started babbling.

"Well, um, to be mates, two…" He glanced at Cassie. "People have to be bonded in a… well, you know. And they have to declare themselves mates in their hearts or something. The internet was a little vague about that. But yeah, that's not something that's really, uh, occurred, so it's basically not possible and hey, everyone, did I introduce my cousin Cassie?"

God decided He liked Stiles again and everyone turned their eyes towards Cassie. Derek let out a breath, looking like he just might vomit.

Cassie waved her fingers. "Hey."

Was it just him, or did Erica's pupils just widen? Boyd and Isaac definitely sat up straighter now that they were paying enough attention to get a good look at her.

And, okay, Cassie was someone worth looking at. Her hair, for example, was always a sight to behold. She was constantly dying it different colors--in fact, Stiles hadn't ever seen her with the same hair color twice. At the moment it was honey-blonde with highlights in varying shades of red. As for her face and body… well, Cassie was just one of those people that was made for sex. She wasn't 'pretty', or 'beautiful', or 'lovely.' She was  _sexy_. End of story.

Fortunately Cassie took things over from there and introduced herself. Within thirty seconds everyone was sitting in rapt attention as she described her globe-trotting adventures, and Stiles did not fail to see her scooting closer to Erica or giving the blonde bedroom eyes. Oh, Lord. It was starting.

Derek, having come back to life after statue-mode and apparently recovering from suppressing his gag reflex, jerked his head at Stiles towards the kitchen. Stiles slipped out of the couch where he was currently wedged with Cassie, Erica, and Boyd, and followed the alpha into the kitchen.

"Sorry about that," Stiles said. "I just started freaking out and–"

To his surprise, Derek waved it off. "They're idiots," he growled. "Ignore them."

"Really?" Stiles didn't squeak. He didn't. "You're not going to, you know, rip my throat out for word-vomiting about mates and all?"

"Well, you were accurate, and since they're all going to have mates some day they might as well start to get an idea." Derek shrugged, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "Some things you missed, though. We can mate with another werewolf--alpha, beta, whatever--or a human. We also mate for life."

"So… no divorces?" Stiles inquired. What? He was curious.

Derek shrugged. "None that I know of. We pick our mates very carefully. It's… complicated. But we stay together until one of us dies."

"Oh." Stiles nodded. "And you're telling me all this because…?"

"Because you should know," Derek stated. "And I thought you might get uncomfortable with your cousin out there."

"Um… thanks?" Stiles said hesitantly.

Derek snorted. "Don't thank me. I could smell the pheromones wafting off of them from a mile away."

Stiles made a face. He so didn't need to know that…

"By the way, I thought I told you to leave her at home?" Derek said.

"I tried, dude," Stiles said. "I really did. But she insisted on coming. She said she wanted to find out why I was into you other than the movie-star looks and oh God I said that out loud didn't I?"

Derek gave him the look that said  _spill the beans_. "Stiles," he growled. "What did you tell her?"

"I didn't tell her anything," Stiles said quickly. "She just kind of assumed that we were… I mean, she didn't realize that you and me against the wall was you being all threatening, she thought it was… look, Cassie's mind revolves around two things: adventure and sex. So she assumed sex, okay? She thinks we're together. As in, a relationship. As in, dating, As in…"

"I get it., Derek growled. There was a strange note in his voice, one that Stiles couldn't identify. Again, the fact that he couldn't place it, and the realization that he normally could, were both a little worrisome.

The alpha sighed. "Let's go with it," he said, that strange note still in his voice. "As long as she doesn't know the truth…"

Stiles nodded eagerly. "See, that's exactly what I thought. She thinks it's a secret so she's not going to tell anyone. It's a win-win situation."

Derek nodded curtly. "All right."

He picked something up from the counter and tossed it to Stiles, who caught it automatically. It was a roll of cookie dough. He gave Derek a questioning look.

"I thought we could make them. You know, while your cousin woos everyone."

Stiles shuddered. "I do not need that visual." He nodded. "Okay, sure. Cookies. Yeah." He looked around. "Where's a cooking sheet?"

It wasn't until afterwards that he realized just how freaking weird and surreal and crazy it was that he had just made friggin'  _cookies_  with Derek Hale.

And what was more, the guy liked to lick the spoon. That was so his territory! Derek had used his height to his advantage and held the spoon out of Stiles' reach, grinning as Stiles tried to jump for it.

It wasn't funny. Really. Not funny.

But it was nice. In a really weird, totally Twilight Zone way, it was really nice.

And Cassie managed to distract everyone enough that neither mates nor den mothers were mentioned for the rest of the evening, which was good, because they needed to get down to business. By the time they'd all finished munching on the brownies Erica and Cassie had vanished to who-knows-where, but Derek hadn't minded. Boyd promised to fill the missing beta in later, so they all hunkered down on the couches and chairs and focused their attention on the alpha. Even Lydia stopped examining her nails to listen.

Stiles kind of tuned Derek out as he explained everything to the pack. After all, the guy was basically repeating what he'd told Stiles earlier that day. He found himself staring at Derek's lips as they moved, stretching and circling around vowels and occasionally tightening and pursing. Stiles wondered what they would feel like, taste like… okay, whoa, slow down there. He was not thinking those thoughts. Nuh-uh, no way.

His minor freak-out session concerning his sudden obsession with Derek's lips was aborted when he heard Derek say,

"All right. So everyone knows what their job is."

"Wait, what?" Stiles blinked. "What about my job?"

"Your job is to stay in your house, safe and sound, until we deal with this threat," Derek said slowly, as if he were speaking to a very young child.

"Are you serious?" Stiles protested. "No, wait, of course you are, far be it from the big bad alpha to make a joke. You guys need me! Do I have to list all of the times I've saved your sorry asses?"

Derek just sat there, glaring at him. Stiles shook his head.

"Uh-uh. That might work on the pups here," Crap, now even  _he_  was calling them 'the pups.' "But that whole alpha-thing won't do it for me. I'm not pack, buddy, remember? You can't control me."

"Stiles," Derek growled. Stiles noticed that the older man had gotten extra tense again, while the others followed the argument back and forth like it was a tennis match. A life or death tennis match. A life or death tennis match with an exploding tennis ball… and a net that was on fire…

"Stiles!" Derek barked. Stiles didn't jump. He just… flinched, a little. "You are not putting yourself in danger this time, and that's final!"

Stiles did his best to glare, but he wasn't sure that he was all that successful. "Fine. But don't you come crawling back to me for help when your butts get whipped. I'm the good luck charm, the plucky sidekick, the ace best friend, the… whatever."

"You're also an accident-prone idiot who needs to stay out of the way," Derek growled, mostly to himself. He said something else, but Stiles' ears couldn't pick it up. The pups, however, graced with super-senses, appeared to hear what their alpha said perfectly well, since they all flushed beet red. "You promise to stay out of the way, safe in your house, until this is over?"

"Yeah, yeah, I promise," Stiles grumbled. "Happy?"

Derek gave a curt nod.

Stiles slumped back in his seat, angry at being left out. On purpose. Again. What was with Derek, anyway? Surely Stiles wasn't  _that_  inexperienced, or that clumsy, or that obnoxious…

"Pack dismissed." Derek said.

Stiles knew it was juvenile and probably proved Derek's point, but he stuck his tongue out at the alpha all the same. But only once the guy's back was turned.

He had a feeling that Derek sensed it anyway, judging from the half-exhausted glare he sent Stiles's way.


	3. Chapter 3

"Look, Erica, I'm not even going to pretend that I understand a thing that is going on in your crazy mind," Stiles argued. "But if you think that I can convince Derek of anything, you are truly, absolutely, completely  _insane_. And I know you're not supposed to tell a crazy person that they're crazy but I'm sorry, you are nuts!" Stiles paused, listening. "Yeah, I'll tell her. Goodbye, Erica."

He hung up, collapsing into his desk chair. "Erica says hey," he told Cassie.

"That's sweet. I'll have to meet up with her later. So how was school?" Cassie asked. She was painting her nails on Stiles's bed, the tiny bottles all laid out carefully before her. When Stiles took a second look, he could see that Cassie was actually painting her skin, her feet, hands and legs all a mess of swirls and patterns and nonsensical designs.

And the pack thought  _he_  was strange…

"It was okay," Stiles shrugged. "How are you liking Beacon Hills?"

It had been three days since Cassie had arrived and kinda-sorta crashed the pack meeting. Since then Stiles had only seen everyone in school. He was being good and staying at home, like Derek asked.

It was killing him.

"It's got lovely scenery. Boyd took me on a hike yesterday. And that ice cream parlor is the best." Cassie picked up a bottle filled with sparkly blue toenail polish. "I wouldn't spend more than a weekend here if it weren't for you though. But I promised Uncle Sheriff I'd stay for a week, so… yeah." She winked. "But the pickings are good."

Stiles groaned. "Ugh. Do I want to know?"

Cassie began to tick off with her fingers. "Erica--controlling, but loves it when someone else has the guts to take over--Boyd, Isaac--sweet kid, had to show him the ropes--Lydia and Jackson were the most fun I've had in forever."

Stiles grabbed a pillow and covered his ears with it. "Not hearing this! La la la… So not hearing this! I am thinking of rainbows and unicorns and puppies and sweet old ladies and definitely  _not_  that!"

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. It's not like you haven't done it."

She stared at him, and Stiles watched the realization creep across her face, like a sunrise. She blinked, her eyes widening.

"You mean you haven't?"

"This might come as a surprise to you, Cassie, but not all of us are addicted to sex." Of course, he thought about sex an awful lot, but there was no need to get into that.

"What about Derek?"

Ah, crap. He'd forgotten about that. Cassie was looking at him like she was a prospector who'd struck gold.

"Um… nothing. There's nothing going on with Derek."

"Oh?" Cassie switched to a light salmon color. "You two looked pretty hot n' heavy the other day."

"That was…" Stiles sighed. "Look, we haven't done anything, okay?"

Cassie made a face that would have done any Christian martyr proud. "Why not? Are you waiting until you're eighteen? I mean he is, what, six years older than you are?"

Stiles glared at her. "That's not a huge age difference," he said defensively.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Cassie demanded. "Hell, I'd tap that if I could. Why aren't you?"

"It's complicated," Stiles deflected.

"Oh? How so?" Cassie asked. "You want it, he wants it--I don't see what's so complicated about that."

Stiles snorted. The thought of Derek being attracted to a skinny, 185-pound weakling like him was almost as crazy as Erica thinking that he could convince the alpha to step down on the security (what those security measures were, exactly, he wasn't sure).

"I mean… you have thought about it, right?" Cassie peered into his face, all teasing gone.

Cassie was curious, and Cassie was stubborn, but she was also caring. And when she sensed something wrong--like she obviously did now--she combined those traits to get the information that she wanted.

Stiles shifted. This was so not where he wanted the conversation to go…

"Stiiiiiles…" Cassie said. "C'mon. You can tell me." She made a zipping motion with her fingers across her lips. "Whatever you say stays between us. I pinky swear."

When Stiles didn't say anything--a miracle in and of itself--Cassie set aside the nail polish. "I'm not budging until you tell me what's going on."

Maybe telling her half the truth would be okay?

"Everyone's going on a camping trip and I can't join them," Stiles explained.

 _Camping trip:_ the new  _I'm sleeping over at Scott's house_.

"Why not?" Cassie asked.

"Because, uh…" Because they would be fighting a bunch of grown-ass alpha werewolves and he'd get killed the minute they smelled him? "Because of Derek."

Now, where did that word vomit come from?

"Really," Cassie said. "Tell me."

"Well, um, we have a kind of… complicated relationship," Stiles finished lamely.

"How so?"

"Well I know where I stand, but the guy is nothing but mixed messages. He always wants me to stay out of things, but then he goes to me for help and stuff when he could go to a bunch of other people. And why is he so protective when he's the one slamming me against the nearest vertical surface that'll take our weight? That's not what it sounded like," Stiles added quickly.

"I have a theory," Cassie said impishly, "But first, you tell me--why do you put up with it?"

That question had honestly never occurred to Stiles before. He thought back on everything. His need to help Derek, no matter how extremely inconvenient it was. How his dreams had changed from red ringlets and creamy curves to short, dark hair and hard lines and planes of muscle. The way he could tell what each and every one of Derek's expressions meant--except when he couldn't, and that startled him. How he let the alpha treat him and put up with his crap with little more than a few half-hearted, snarky complaints.

Ah, crap.

"I take it you've come to a conclusion?" Cassie asked, smiling gently.

Stiles opened his mouth when the sounds of  _Hungry Like A Wolf_  pierced the air of the room (which had become unnaturally thick in the last couple of minutes). Stiles answered it without a second thought.

"Derek, what's–"

"It's tonight," the alpha growled over the telephone line. "We've pinpointed their location and we're going to challenge them tonight. Stay indoors."

"But–"

" _Stay indoors, Stiles_."

"But where are they?" Stiles paused. "Just so that I know where to avoid if I have to go to the store or something?"

"They're on the east side of town, just on the edge of the woods. If I see you within a mile of that area, I will tear your throat out, okay?"

Derek ended the call before Stiles could answer.

"Well, that's great." He tossed the phone onto the bed.

"What's up?" Cassie asked.

"It's tonight," Stiles explained.

"The camping trip?" Cassie asked. "Where is it?"

"It's on the east side of town, on the edge of the woods, right near Allison's house, actual–" Stiles froze.

_What creates an alpha pack?_

_Usually a hunter, or a group of hunters._

_That must have been one crazy dangerous hunter to create a ten-wolf alpha pack…_

_A crazy, dangerous hunter…_

"Gerard," Stiles breathed.

"What?" Cassie asked.

"Shit, shit, shit…" Stiles jumped up and began to pace, his body refusing to allow him to sit still. They had all thought that Gerard Argent was dead, and maybe he was, but at some point--before or after the Kamina stuff went down--he must've destroyed a slew of packs. Or maybe it was Kate Argent. From what he'd heard she was a real piece of work.

"That's why they're here, in Beacon Hills," Stiles muttered. "They're out for revenge. They're going to destroy the Argents. Ah, man, Scott is going to freak when he hears this…"

Cassie frowned. "Stiles, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Werewolves, Cassie!" Stiles barked. "Look, Derek and I aren't dating. He's an alpha werewolf, and everyone you met is a member except for Allison, who's a werewolf hunter along with her dad. Chris--her dad--he's an okay guy but her aunt and grandfather are total nutjobs. One of them must have created this alpha pack. That's what's going down tonight. Not a camping trip, but a fight. Our pack, Derek's pack, is going up against the alphas. But they don't know that the alphas are going after the Argents, and whenever you mix wolves and hunters you get one crazy cocktail-thing that I don't even want to think about and… oh man, this is not good."

"Well, call." Cassie shrugged, handing Stiles his discarded cellphone.

"Right, call them, good idea." Stiles hastily dialed Derek's number from memory. He tried to tell himself it was because he knew Scott wouldn't answer.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang, and…

Stiles hung up. "Crap, they've already left the house. Derek just installed the landline and he doesn't have a cell."

"Okay…" Cassie said slowly. "So now what do we do?"

"You're taking this all rather calmly for someone who is listening to their cousin spew stuff about supernatural creatures," Stiles noted.

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Oh, for crying out… Stiles, you're pretty crazy, but you don't lie. And I slept with most of 'em, remember? You don't sleep with someone without learning a few things about them. I could tell that something was off." She picked up his keys from the nightstand and jingled them. "Now, why don't we pop on down and help out your pack."

Stiles snatched the keys from her hand and started to take off down the stairs. Cassie was right behind him. "Oh, and we are  _so_  not finished with that conversation. You still owe me an answer."

"I told you, there is nothing going on…"

"Sure. And I'm celibate." Cassie pushed him out the door towards his Jeep. "And Stiles? I'm driving."


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles was pretty sure that Derek was going to burst a vein or something when he caught sight of the alpha. Clearly their scent had preceded them, since Derek didn't look surprised, and judging by the way his jaw was clenched he'd had about a minute to work up a good temper.

"Stiles, what the fucking hell are you doing here?" The alpha demanded.

"Warning you." Stiles jumped out of the jeep as Cassie slammed it to a stop. He wobbled on his feet a little. How anyone had ever let his cousin get a license, he had no idea. Derek was immediately there with a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Warning us about what? You're supposed to be at home,  _safe,_ " Derek growled.

"I know what created the alpha pack, and I know why they're in Beacon Hills," Stiles explained. "One of the Argents--Gerard or Kate is my guess--destroyed these packs and they're here for revenge. That's why they're on this side of town."

Everyone else came forward, staring at Stiles and Derek, unsure as to what to do.

"It makes sense," Lydia said finally.

"I have to warn Allison," Scott said, turning to go.

Derek growled at him and Scott wilted. Derek turned back to Stiles.

"Why didn't you call?" He demanded.

"I did! None of you answer your stupid phones!" Stiles defended. "Besides, would you have really listened to me if I wasn't here, in your face, where you couldn't avoid me?"

"I always listen to you," Derek grumbled softly.

"Look, we have to talk to the Argents. We have to form a team or something. We can't fight them alone."

"There is no 'we', Stiles." The hand on Stiles's shoulder tightened, but it was also trembling, like Derek was afraid. Afraid of what? What could the alpha possibly be worried about? "There is us, and there's you, going home."

"Stop trying to shut me out." Stiles stood his ground. "I'm pack, the same as anyone else. And don't use the human excuse, because you let Lydia in."

"Actually, I convinced Jackson to let me tag along," Lydia piped up.

"Whipped," Boyd, Isaac, and Erica all intoned under their breaths.

"The point is, I'm here to stay, so stop trying to keep me in the dark," Stiles finished.

Derek did the sighing thing where his eyes flickered. "I am trying to keep you safe," he started.

A scream pierced the air. Everyone turned as one towards the sound.

"Allison!"

Scott was a blur that quickly vanished into the thick air of the twilight, hurling himself without thought towards the sound. The others all looked at Derek expectantly.

"Let's go," Derek growled. He shot a look at Stiles. "Stay back. That goes for your cousin, too."

Cassie wiggled her fingers. "I'm having way too much fun being a voyeur on this one," she assured the alpha.

"Yes, she always talks like that," Stiles responded to Derek's facial expression.

Derek's hand left Stiles's shoulder. "Stay safe."

Then he, too, was gone, in the direction of the scream and Scott. The others followed obediently.

"Hop in!" Cassie said, slipping back into the driver's seat of the jeep. "We'll never catch up to them if we go on foot."

When they tore into the driveway of the Argent's home, it was pandemonium. Chris and Allison were managing to hold their own rather well, but what Stiles hadn't been expecting was how well Derek's pack fought. It might have been the fact that his girlfriend was in danger, but Scott was a drooling, jaw-snapping, whirling mass of teeth and claws, sticking close to Allison and doing a fine job of tearing to pieces anything that tried to approach her. The other pups were all working together--Derek must have run them through team exercises--taking on the alphas with a skill that must have made their alpha proud.

Peter wasn't there, but then, Stiles didn't expect him to actually step up and help out his nephew. At least he wasn't a part of the alpha pack. That would have been a real blow to Derek.

Speaking of Derek…

The young alpha was currently fighting off two other alphas at once--big, hulking black brutes. They'd tear him to pieces if Derek slipped up for even a second.

Stiles reached into the backseat of the jeep and pulled out his lacrosse stick. He was glad he'd been too lazy to put his equipment away after the last practice. He barreled out of the car, brandishing the stick like it was a wolfbane-coated sword.

Also known as Stupid Decision #420.

He somehow managed to dodge any other wolves, friendly or not, and reached Derek and his two adversaries. Stiles began to beat one of them with the lacrosse stick. He didn't know or care how effective it was, he just had to get those oafs off of Derek.

"Get off of him, you big dumb… big… guy." Stiles stopped hitting the wolf as it turned, fastening its eyes on Stiles. "Wow, you are big." Stiles swallowed.

The alpha wolf growled.

Derek launched himself at the wolf threatening Stiles, knocking the alpha to the ground. Before Stiles could even blink, Derek had his mouth fastened around the alpha's throat.

Wow, the guy wasn't kidding about the throat-ripping stuff. That was… that was…

"That is a lot of blood," Stiles murmured. "I might vomit. Is it okay if I vomit?"

Judging by the growl the second alpha wolf sent his way, no, it was not okay. Stiles brandished the lacrosse stick. "Back off," he said as threateningly as he could.

It obviously wasn't threatening enough because the wolf coiled back, preparing to strike.

Was this the part where your life flashed before your eyes?

All of the wind rushed out of him as he was knocked to the ground, flat on his back. Stiles brought his hands up to protect his throat but nothing tried to grab him. In fact, the way the creature was wrapping itself around him…

Stiles peeked open his eyes and found that it was Derek on top of him, blocking Stiles from any attack. The two wolves glared at each other, teeth bared, growling. They leaped at the same time, colliding midair and landing on the ground with what would have been a bone-shattering crash for any normal human. They rolled, they tussled, they bit and scratched and howled fiercely. Stiles had seen Derek fighting before but it was nothing like this. The guy was a tornado, tearing the other alpha to absolute shreds with the ferocity of his attack. Within the span of a minute the anonymous alpha wolf was on the ground, a mass of limp dark fur, matted and covered in sticky dark red.

"Seriously, I'm gonna throw up," Stiles protested.

Derek loped over to him, his gait lopsided thanks to the bleeding in one of his hind legs. When he reached Stiles he transformed, grabbing him and pulling him to his chest with one arm.

"You are getting out of here," Derek growled. This time, Stiles could hear genuine fear and concern in the alpha's voice. The sheer warmth radiating from the man's (bare, very bare, deliciously bare…) chest made Stiles want to press himself against him further, deepen the physical connection.

"C'mon." Derek made to come out of his crouch and stand up when he gave a kind of grunting yelp, his entire body arching. His grip on Stiles tightened and he crushed the teen to him, still instinctively shielding him from whatever was now attacking them.

Another alpha had its claws and teeth embedded in Derek's shoulders, his entire weight bearing down on the younger alpha. Stiles struggled to get out, to help Derek, but the older male just held him tighter, determined to protect him. Derek tried shaking his assailant off, but to no avail.

Stiles was frozen. His brain was such a whirl that he couldn't focus on any one thought, seize it and take action.

"You gotta let go, Derek. Come on, he's killing you, just… fight back! Why aren't you fighting back!?"

Derek just held him in that grip of steel refusing to move, only twisting his body to try and shake the wolf off of him. His moves were getting weaker, and his body was sinking towards the ground until he was on his knees, and Stiles himself was only an inch or so from reconnecting with the blood-spattered grass and soaked dirt, but still Derek held on. Stubborn sourwolf, even now that he was going to…

A cracking sound filled the air and the wolf on top of Derek slumped, rolling off of him and thudding to the ground. Chris Argent stepped into Stiles's view, regarding the two boys with… was that a glint of amusement?

"You can let him breathe now, Hale," Mr. Argent said, nodding towards Stiles.

Derek relaxed his death grip around Stiles but didn't fully relinquish his hold. Stiles realized that while he was using one hand to prop himself up from the ground, the other was gripping Derek's arm with almost as much fervor as Derek.

"Um, Derek? It's okay now. I think we got them," Stiles reminded the alpha cautiously.

Derek raised his eyes, now their usual dark color, to Stiles' face. "You're okay?" He asked.

"Yup." Stiles nodded. "I'm just fine, thanks to you. That was seriously cool what you just… Derek?"

The werewolf's eyes dulled a little and his face went slack before he slumped to the ground--conveniently on top of Stiles, who let out an  _oomph_  of surprise.

"Out cold," Chris Argent muttered. "We'll have to get him somewhere he can be patched up."

"But they can heal themselves, right?" Stiles wheezed. Okay, wow, Derek was really heavy. He could hardly breathe.

"Yes, but with this level of damage, he'll need a little help."

The hunter carefully rolled Derek off of Stiles and helped him to stand up. As Stiles was brushing himself off (and inwardly lamenting that those bloodstains weren't ever going to come out) the others approached. They were all a little bruised save for Lydia, who somehow didn't even have a hair out of place, but they looked like they were going to burst with triumph.

"Did you see that?" Isaac said, rocking on his heels like an overeager puppy. "I took one down, all by myself! Well, Boyd helped a little, but it was mostly all on my own!"

"Baseball bats are surprisingly effective," Cassie said, twirling the bat that she must've pulled from the depths of Stiles' car trunk. It was covered in red stains, and Cassie herself had several small cuts.

The only ones not rejoicing over their victory were Scott and Allison, who were making out frantically. Personally, on a battlefield in front of your dad and pack surrounded by dead bodies was not Stiles's ideal place for getting to second base but then, Scott and Allison would get it on anywhere. Literally, anywhere. It was a little worrying.

Chris Argent saw his daughter with the teen wolf and coughed. The two teens broke apart, startled. Scott looked like a deer that was about to be run over.

The elder Argent sighed. "You two are just going to keep seeing each other no matter what, aren't you?"

Scott and Allison didn't answer, but everybody else nodded enthusiastically.

"You don't want to know," Stiles said apologetically.

"I do," Cassie piped up.

Chris ignored them. He looked over at the pack, then at Scott and Allison (still ridiculously entwined together), and then back at the pack again. He spared a glance at the unconscious Derek, still sprawled on the grass, and then for some reason he looked at Stiles, who felt the sudden urge to step over and crouch protectively by Derek's body.

Chris sighed. "You all came here to protect us," he said quietly. "And you three humans fought alongside the pack." He nodded towards Lydia, Cassie, and Stiles. "And you're clearly devoted to my daughter."

"Oh yeah, he is super devoted," Stiles said quickly. "Like, majorly devoted."

"He texts her all day, every day," Jackson complained.

"She's all he talks about," Isaac said.

"Forget about blondes being preferred--the guy compares everyone to Allison," Erica griped.

Chris Argent held up his hands. "I get it, I get it." He sighed heavily. "I suppose this means that I have to give you my permission."

Allison broke free of Scott's arms--no easy task--and bounded to her father, throwing her arms around him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She cried.

Erica muttered something, and the others chuckled. Except for Scott, who glared at them.

"Does this mean we have a truce?" Isaac asked. "No more attacks?"

"Guys!" Stiles yelled. "Can we get Derek to Deaton now?"

"Deaton?" Cassie asked.

"Local veterinarian," Stiles explained. "He helps us out. C'mon, I can't lift this guy by myself!"

In the end it took Jackson, Boyd, and Isaac, with Scott directing them, to lift the alpha and put him in Stiles' jeep. Cassie once again slipped into the driver's seat.

"Oh, no, you don't," Stiles argued. "My jeep, I'm driving this time."

Cassie arched an eyebrow. "Really? You wouldn't rather keep an eye on Derek?"

Well, when she put it like that…

Stiles hopped in the backseat next to Derek, carefully lifting the alpha's head and putting it in his lap so that it wouldn't jostle around. Now that he was focused on him, he could see the deep red slashes and semicircular bite marks that littered his body. Stiles felt his chest cringe and clench painfully. Derek was going to make it. He  _had_  to make it. Stiles didn't know what he would do if Derek didn't.

"Come on, Sourwolf," he whispered. "Just hang on for another minute." He placed his hand on Derek's chest to feel his heartbeat. It was slow, painfully so, but it was steady.

The rest of the pack was running alongside the jeep while Allison and Lydia were crammed in the front seats with Cassie.

They screeched to a stop in front of the clinic. The pack immediately surrounded the jeep, lifting Derek out and carrying him in. Stiles followed, managing to keep his hand on Derek's chest despite the jostling he got from the others.

When Deaton got a good look at Derek, his face made Stiles' stomach drop to the floor.

"He'll be okay, right?" He asked the vet.

Deaton sighed. "I…" He shook his head. "You guys can recover from a lot, but I don't know. I really don't. I'll patch him up as best I can, but after that the only thing to do is let him rest."

Deaton vanished into the operation room, closing it behind him. Stiles felt empty and alone, despite the pack crowding around him. He felt a hand on each of his shoulders, and turned. Both Scott and Cassie were there, touching him reassuringly.

"He'll pull through," Cassie assured him.

Stiles could only hope that she was right because somehow, Derek's fate was the most important thing in the world to him.


	5. Chapter 5

Cassie looked at Scott and the others. "You all go find something to do. Go… make out or something." She waved them off.

The pack all looked like helpless puppies towards the room where their alpha lay. Stiles could have sworn that Isaac whimpered. Cassie made a shooing motion with her hands. "Go!"

They all scurried towards the opposite end of the clinic, where the animals were kept, and occupied themselves with healing the creatures.

"Sit." Cassie directed Stiles to one of the chairs, forcing him into it. Stiles obeyed, and Cassie plopped down next to him.

"It's not going to be like before," Cassie promised him.

Before…

"It's the same. People who do things for me, Cassie, they don't make it. I'm like a bad luck charm."

Cassie shook her head. "You're a  _good_  luck charm, Stiles. It was Derek's choice to protect you. I don't know if you know this, but that guy has it for you--hard. No pun intended. Okay, maybe it was a little intended. But you're not allowed to beat yourself up about this. Not like last time."

Last time had been his mother. Going out in the worst rainstorm in a decade to buy your son a birthday present sounded like the kind of stupid thing that Stiles would do, but it was his mother who'd made that mistake, and it was she who'd paid the price on the slippery roads with a wayward driver. He knew, he just knew, that if she hadn't been going out to buy him a birthday present--he was nine, he could handle waiting a day for a fucking birthday present--she would still be there. Alive. Giving him advice about girls.

Or boys, as it turned out. Stiles had a feeling she wouldn't mind.

"Stiles," Cassie said seriously. She looked him straight in the eyes and Stiles was strangely reminded of Derek. The alpha had always looked him in the eyes as well. He couldn't remember if that was a sign of respect or challenge among wolves. Both, maybe?

"You can't blame yourself for this," Cassie insisted. "I mean it. He's going to make it, and you're going to be all happy and gooey and sickeningly cute about his miraculous recovery, and I'm going to roll my eyes and run off and have more sex with your pack 'cause they're all serious hotties, okay? This is going to be a Happily Ever After. I promise you that. Do you believe me? Do you trust me when I promise you?"

Stiles nodded. Cassie was no bullshitter (although, with her sexcapades, sometimes he wished she was).

"Good." Cassie nodded, satisfied. "Good. I know that this is a freaky near-death experience and all, but I think this was a good thing," she said, continuing to nod to herself. "I mean, how else were you going to admit it?"

"Admit what?" Stiles asked.

Cassie arched an eyebrow. "That you love him, dumbass."

She sounded like an irate doctor.

And, like a trusting patient, Stiles knew that she was right.

"Now you need to go in there and be with him." Cassie's tone brooked no argument. "It's what you want, isn't it?"

Yes. Yes, yes it was, it was what he wanted more than anything. Just to feel Derek's heartbeat again, make sure that he was okay, and beg him not to rip his throat out for interfering (again).

Seeing as Cassie was still waiting for a response, Stiles nodded.

Cassie smiled. "It will be okay, Stiles," she whispered. "I promise." She raised her voice and announced, "I'll shuttle these pups home."

The others all popped their heads around the corner. Erica practically preened at Cassie, but the others just kind of stared dully. Allison sighed, nodding obligingly.

"Okay, then," Stiles said slowly. "You guys be good for Cassie."

They all gave him obedient,  _Yes, Mom_ , nods.

"You are  _so_  the den mother," Cassie muttered.

Cassie herded them out the door, as maternal as if she'd raised hundreds of teenage werewolves. She smiled at Stiles, all warm and reassuring, and Stiles remembered how Cassie was, above all, someone who cared. She genuinely liked people, and made friends everywhere. Hell, she had four Facebook profiles and two pages to hold all of her friends. And now that Stiles needed her, she was going to step up and support him however she could.

Stiles gave her the biggest bear hug he could muster. Cassie chuckled and hugged him back.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"Hey, no biggie," Cassie insisted. "Now go see that wolf of yours."

"Sourwolf," Stiles corrected.

Cassie outright laughed at that. "Okay. Your sourwolf."

His sourwolf? Stiles liked the sound of that.

Stiles pulled back, smiling. Cassie waved at him as he backed into the examination room, flashing him a thumbs up just before the doors blocked his view of her.

Stiles pivoted slowly on his heel, frantic butterflies invading his stomach. He was actually going to do this. He was diving in--and not just into an Olympic-sized swimming pool. Although he had done that…

He wondered if Derek would forgive him if he threw up.

* * *

 

Derek lay on the examination bed, apparently asleep. Deaton had made it up comfortably and patched up the alpha's wounds. White strips were wrapped around almost all of his chest and shoulders, as well as a bit of his upper arms. A few 'x' shaped bits of medicinal tape were scattered over his face and head. He looked more vulnerable, and yet more peaceful, than Stiles had ever seen him. He wanted to run over and pull the stupid alpha into a huge boa-constrictor hug and never let him go.

Instead Stiles approached cautiously, stepping across the room so that he was standing on Derek's left side, by his head. Gingerly, he lifted up his hand and placed it over the alpha's heart.

It was beating at a more normal pace than before, steady and sure. Stiles let himself relax a little, his palm warming at the touch of the too-hot skin. He allowed himself to feel the hard, muscled planes of Derek's body, marveling at just how stupidly  _fit_  the guy was. How many freaking pull-ups a day did the guy do? Was that why it was taking so long to get the Hale house fixed up? 'Cause he was spending all of his time doing crunches?

"Stiles? What are you doing?"

The voice was low and weak, almost wheezing, but it was decidedly Derek's. Stiles pulled his hand back like Derek's chest was a snake about to strike, and smiled nervously. "Uh… just checking your heartbeat."

Derek's eyes glinted suspiciously, but he lowered his head back against the makeshift bed again. "Why are you here?"

"To check on you, sourwolf," Stiles explained. "Yeesh. Is it really so surprising that I care about your health?"

Derek grunted.

"Look," Stiles fiddled with his shirt, twiddling his fingers together. "I, uh, well, this isn't going to come out easily. I'm probably going to botch it, actually. Like, flaming plane wreck kind of botch it. But I'm going to try anyway, so just sit tight and bear with me, okay?"

Derek nodded. It wasn't like the guy had much of a choice anyway. There were advantages to a wounded alpha wolf. Stiles would like to see Derek try to slam him against the wall  _this_ time.

"So, uh, when I first met you, I was pretty convinced you were a killer," he started. "A kind of sexy killer--oh, yeah, did I mention I've kind of been wondering if I was bi for the last year?--but anyway, off-topic, I'll get back to that later, so I thought you were a murder, right? And when I found out the truth I still didn't like you. I mean, you were rude, and annoying, and you don't listen and everything you say goes and you order me around and… yeah. You were a big, fat, pain in my ass. And not the good kind! Seriously! You were a jerk! But a sexy jerk. Yeah. That was annoying too, by the way. And then something… started to happen. We ended up on the same team. Not that way--God, Cassie's poisoned my mind. You, me, Scott, the pups… Why the fuck have you got me calling them pups now!? God! I need Adderall, sorry, it's been a long day. So we were all a team, and things were just so confusing, and through it all we somehow just… I kind of… look, what I'm trying to say here is… Dude, I kept you afloat for  _how_  many minutes in that fucking freezing pool? And you saved my life a couple of times. That Gerard, he was a sick bastard but you, you came, and you saved me. Now, Stiles Stilinski is no damsel in distress but it was kind of nice, I gotta say. That is, you've become kind of nice. And… I stopped making sense a while ago, didn't I?"

Derek nodded. "You make about as much sense as a turkey," he grumbled. "Can't see why I fucking understand everything you say."

Stiles blinked. "What?"

Derek sighed, screwing up his face like he was in pain. "It's… it's not easy. Being…"

"Green?"

"Me." Derek gave Stiles the evil eye, and the teen made a zipping motion with his fingers. "Everything I touch gets ruined."

"Dude, that is so not true. Look at how the pack is doing! Look at–"

"Stiles, I just let you run around in circles for ten minutes, let me talk."

"Yup, shutting up now. Got it."

Derek sighed again. "You got in under my skin, okay? You're… you're the most important thing, to me. Do you get that? All I want is to keep you safe. And then you go and throw yourself into a werewolf fight with nothing but a flimsy  _lacrosse stick_ …"

Stiles gave an apologetic grin. Derek huffed.

"So… what you're saying here is… we're on the same page?" Stiles asked.

"If by that you mean yes, Stiles, I like you, now please don't go doing a happy dance and shouting on the rooftops about it."

Stiles' grin nearly split his face. "You mean you  _like_  like me?"

"What is this, grade school? I'm in love with you." Derek ground the words out through gritted teeth.

"Now, was that really so difficult?" Stiles asked. "Love you too, by the way."

"I figured that out."

"Can I kiss you now?"

Derek's expression didn't change, but his eyes glowed--and not in a turning-into-a-freaky-supernatural-creature kind of way, but a warm, genuine, smiling-on-the-inside kind of way.

"Sure."

Stiles leaned down, pressing his lips gently to the alpha's. At first it was just slightly dry, chapped lips, but then somehow one of their mouths opened and then it was completely different, warm and wet and really, really good and  _Jesus_  why the fuck hadn't they done this before? Seriously, they'd been missing out…

"Does this mean I get to boss the pups around now?" Stiles asked, as they broke apart for air.

"You already kind of were," Derek pointed out.

"Does this mean I can boss  _you_  around?"

Derek full on grinned this time. "You can try."

"Stupid sourwolf," Stiles said affectionately before kissing him again.

It really wasn't fair. The guy had just gotten the living tar beat out of him. How did he manage to flip them so that Stiles was on the bottom?

So not fair.

"I thought… you were… Deaton said… rest…" Stiles gasped out.

"I rested," Derek said. He stopped attacking Stiles' mouth in favor of moving down the column of his neck. When he nibbled softly at his skin the teen couldn't prevent the whimper that escaped, or his instinctive move to bare more of his throat to the alpha's ministrations.

Derek's dark chuckle shot straight to Stiles' groin. "Why am I not surprised you have a biting kink?"

"Must have been all those throat-ripping threats," Stiles chirped, his voice a lot higher-pitched than he'd have liked it. "But seriously, don't you think that--oh  _God_ …"

Derek was back to sucking and nipping at Stiles' skin, and Stiles decided that really, why take it slow? Slow was overrated.

Cassie would be proud.

While he didn't like how most of his clothes were still on, he  _did_  enjoy how wonderfully naked Derek was. He ran his hands over the alpha's chest and back, delighting in how the muscles jumped under his touch. When Derek's hands started roaming too, Stiles couldn't stop himself from bucking his hips a little.

"You are so impatient," Derek muttered.

"You always say that like it's a surprise." Stiles's reply was a little out of breath.

Deciding to even the odds, Stiles allowed his hands to move all the way down Derek's body, exploring with more boldness than he felt. He had absolutely nothing to go on other than his own masturbation techniques, but he would be damned if he didn't try.

Derek growled the minute that Stiles touched him, and Stiles heard something rip.

"Was that my shirt?"

"I'll buy you a new one," Derek muttered.

"I feel so used… ah!" Stiles' joke turned into a yelp (dignified yelp, it was dignified, damn it) as Derek pressed the heel of his hand against the bulge in Stiles' pants.

Derek didn't exactly say, "Payback's a bitch," but the smug smirk on his face was a good substitute.

Seriously, though, the alpha had absolutely no grounds for griping about how impatient Stiles was, because he had the teen stripped as fast as possible, pushing their bodies flush together with a desperate pant. Stiles nearly came right then and there. He'd never so much as kissed anyone (Suzie Boyle in third grade did not count) before, and now he had all two hundred and some odd pounds of lean, mean, werewolf machine pressed against him, hot and sweaty and needy, and it was all making him higher than an acid drip.

Not that he'd ever tried an acid drip, only a little pot once. But if it's his dad asking, nope, no sir, no drugs ever, no way, nuh-uh.

"Derek?"

The werewolf didn't answer. He was rather occupied with memorizing Stiles' stomach with his mouth.

"Derek, how are we going to do this?"

Derek paused, looking up. "What?"

Stiles sighed. "I mean, don't we need lube or whatever or…"

Derek slid his hand up, slipping his fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, twirling his tongue around the digits, keeping eye contact with Stiles the entire time. It was surprisingly hot. Stiles imagined that same tongue and lips curled around his dick, and he nearly lost his load.

Fingers now coated in saliva, Derek slipped his hand down, pausing for a moment to grasp at Stiles' erection, smirking at how the teen bucked up into his hand. But then Derek's hand slid down even further, gently teasing the entrance to Stiles' puckered hole, circling slowly before inching a finger in.

Stiles forced himself to relax, allowing Derek to slide the finger in and out, until it stopped being weird and started to feel good, like, man, seriously good, and when Derek added a second finger he was practically whimpering (inwardly, because he still had some manliness in him… possibly… somewhere, deep inside… underneath all of the humor and survival instincts…) until Derek somehow managed to add a fucking  _third_  and-

"Oh  _fuck_!" Stiles couldn't help the curse that shot out of him. "Whatever the hell that was you better do it again."

Derek chuckled, and Stiles did a very good imitation of a werewolf glare at him. "Seriously. That was--oh holy mother of-" Stiles' long-winded description petered out into another line of curses as Derek hit that sweet spot again.

Eager to move things along and to even the score, Stiles managed to work his hand (which was clenched around Derek's arm) back down to their groins, seizing Derek's cock and taking it in his hand, stroking and circling the dripping tip with his thumb. Derek shuddered, his eyes sliding closed and his jaw tightening.

"Not… gonna last like that," he warned.

"Then you hurry up," Stiles replied.

Derek slipped his fingers out, quirking an eyebrow at Stiles before carefully repositioning them. "Are you sure about this?"

Stiles stared at him. "Are you kidding me?" He asked. "We're naked, in Deaton's examination room, you've been fingering me for the last however many minutes and you're asking if I'm  _sure_  about this?" He huffed. "Derek, you are generally along the lines of insufferable but I have to put my foot down on this one and-"

Derek silenced him with a searing kiss. That was much hotter than just a hand over his mouth, and a lot more effective, too.

As they kissed, Derek carefully lowered himself, his hand joining Stiles' around his dick as he guided it to Stiles' entrance, teasing him with just the tip entering in for a moment before retreating again.

"Come  _on,_ " Stiles gasped, bucking his hips up again. Derek grinned wolfishly, nipping at Stiles's lower lip, and then he was in, actually in, and Stiles nearly froze at the sensation.

"Just relax." Derek murmured, his voice all low and velvety again, stroking Stiles' sides in a calming manner. Stiles did as he was told, allowing himself to take deep breaths and slowly let the tension leave his body. Once he did, Derek cautiously pulled out a bit and then reentered, still gentle and slow. This time, it felt a lot nicer, and the third time he thrust Stiles was even able to rock a bit along with him, encouraging him. A few strokes in and Derek was moving faster, harder, and it was starting to move from the uncomfortable to the pleasant to the amazingly good a whole lot faster than Stiles had anticipated. When Derek started hitting that sweet spot again he could have sworn he saw a few stars.

Okay, if Stiles had known that sex would be this awesome, he would have been a bit more desperate to have it. Not that he hadn't been desperate enough already. Derek was moving hard and fast, but he was constantly touching Stiles, both reassuringly and carefully, like he was a little scared that Stiles might break. And his mouth never left the teen's skin, whether he was kissing him or creating a new hickey along his neck or scraping his teeth over a nipple or just running his lips over the line of his shoulder. He mostly grunted or was silent, but occasionally Stiles thought he could hear a murmured word or two. Stiles, for his part, was unapologetically loud. The neighbors were just going to have to put on earmuffs. He ran his hands over as much of Derek's body as he could touch, gripping him tightly, digging his nails in when Derek thrust particularly hard, causing pleasure to course through him so violently that Stiles's entire body would arch with surprise.

He wasn't sure who finished first. He didn't really think that it mattered, anyway. What did matter was how fucking awesome it was. He couldn't even breathe after that. He saw more than just stars--he saw planets, and constellations, and formerly undiscovered galaxies. He might even have seen the  _Enterprise_  or something. Derek gave a kind of guttural yell and his entire body stiffened, growing rigid for a few moments before he gave a huge gasping pant and nearly collapsed on top of Stiles, his instinctive strength catching him just in time and keeping him from squashing the teen for the second time that night.

"That was amazing. That was pretty amazing for you too, right? I'm not alone in this?" Stiles asked, propping himself up on his elbows and trying to catch Derek's eyes.

Derek nodded, swallowing. "You were… yeah. Yes."

Someday, he would tell Stiles how he hadn't been with anyone since Kate, and how he couldn't help but kind of compare himself and Stiles to his relationship with her, and how Stiles was so much better for so many sweet, silly, ridiculous little reasons. He would tell all of this to Stiles, just as someday Stiles would talk about his mom's death and his guilt and his dad's health and his worries. That someday would be soon. But it wasn't that night, and it wasn't the time. Right then, it was the time for lying there, exploring each other with eyes and lips and hands, and realizing that yes, they'd done this, and yes, they understood what it meant and they were ready for it.

"You look a lot better, you know," Stiles commented, examining the pliant, tan skin beneath his fingertips. "You were a total wreck after that alpha jumped you. Scared the living daylights out of me."

"Call us even then, because you running into the thick of the fight nearly gave me a heart attack." Derek stood up, the harsh white light above failing to wash out just how impossibly ripped the guy was. "You are never doing that again."

"Okay, ground rules." Stiles swung his legs around so that he was sitting up. "One, just because we are hooking up--and we will be doing that again, because that was seriously hot and I am not letting you brush that off as a one-time lapse in judgment--just because we are having scream-worthy sex does not mean that you get to boss me around. Two, my dad does not hear about this. He'd freak. And not about the gay thing, I think he'd be okay with that, but in case you hadn't noticed I'm still underage and he is the sheriff so yeah, he'd probably arrest you, and that would cut into my sexytimes so no telling him. And third,"

Derek planted his hands on either side of Stiles and kissed him, deep and slow, all heat and tongue, before slowly pulling back with a soft popping sound. "Third, you stay out of danger," Derek breathed.

Stiles made a kind of strangled noise in his throat, since his ability to speak had kind of vanished for the time being, and he nodded. Derek grinned.

"If I'd known this was how to shut you up, I would have done it months ago." The alpha chuckled.

Stiles winked. "Liar. You like it when I ramble. I'm just full of witty asides and intelligent observations."

Derek barked out a laugh. "Sure."

Stiles looked around the room, and at the clothes strewn on the floor, and realized that it was probably somewhere around stupid o'clock in the dark early morning hours. "So…" He asked. "What next?"

"Next, I get you home, in bed, safe. Then I go home and finish recuperating,"

"I could help with that."

"And in the morning, we'll have a pack meeting," Derek continued. "Which you will attend. I suppose your cousin will have to come too, I saw her beating an alpha with a baseball bat during the fight. And after that–"

"You're taking me to breakfast," Stiles finished.

To his surprise, Derek didn't put up a fight. He wondered if Derek had wanted to take him out for a while. It was nice, to know that the alpha liked him as more than just a fuck buddy. Although there was that thing about mates…

"Hey, Derek?"

"Hmm?"

"Are we mates?"

Derek was in the middle of putting on his pants and froze with one of his legs in the air, a pose that Stiles normally would've found hilarious. "Well, kind of. Sexual partners aren't necessarily mates. There's a deeper bond that goes into it. It's a little complicated but… know that I would never have us be paired without asking your permission first, Stiles."

"What with the whole mating for life kind of thing." Stiles nodded. "Got it."

"You are pack, Stiles," Derek assured him, slipping on his t-shirt. "And I will take care of you."

Stiles started putting on his own clothes. "Thanks, but I can take care of myself."

Derek gave him a look.

"Kind of," Stiles amended. "But this is great. The dating and being pack and side benefits. By side benefits I mean sex."

"Yes, Stiles, I know what that means."

"So…" Stiles grinned. "You wanna grab a pizza at the 24-hour place on the way home?"

He nearly fainted with shock because Derek Hale, badass alpha wolf, genuinely smiled at him. Stiles was pretty sure it was the best thing he'd seen in his entire life.


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles cleared his throat. "Okay, guys," he said. "I have an announcement to make."

Derek was at the hardware shop buying stuff to fix up the house. He'd seriously put the home maintenance into high gear lately, having the boys spend all of their spare time helping him out. Erica and Lydia were kept busy picking out stuff to decorate the place, which was apparently going to have a dining room, kitchen, massive front porch, basement with a workout area, a game room, living room, and a bedroom for each member of the pack, minus one. Derek had insisted that he and Stiles share the master bedroom. Stiles didn't mind.

Everyone else was sitting around a massive table outside of their favorite pizza shop, slurping on sodas and digging into the extra large pizzas sitting in front of them (meat lover's, veggie, and cheese).

"What's up?" Scott asked around a mouthful of pepperoni, sausage, and ham.

Stiles took a deep breath. "This might come as a surprise, but I am in a relationship. With Derek."

The pack's reaction was surprisingly anti-climactic. They all just blinked at him and went on with their business, except for Scott, who looked like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over his head.

"Wait--what?" He spluttered.

Stiles gestured wildly. "I was expecting a little more than that! A 'congratulations' or something!"

"Dude, we already knew," Isaac explained.

"When you ran out there with that lacrosse stick, all of the alphas turned to attack you," Boyd said. "We had a hell of a time fighting them off."

"But… but why?" Stiles asked.

"The best way to take out a pack is through their alpha. Break the alpha, and you break the pack," Lydia said, examining her nails for invisible imperfections. "You are his mate so, obviously, as a human you're easier to get to than Derek so they went after you."

Stiles looked at the others, who all nodded.

"Wait--that was why they all went after him?" Scott pointed. "I thought it was just because he was easy pickings!"

"And that whole thing about protecting you?" Erica rolled her eyes. "I've never seen anyone so determined to keep somebody safe."

"And the  _looks_ …" Isaac moaned.

"And the smell…" Jackson muttered.

"Wait, that was the smell!?" Scott looked like he might vomit.

"We're not mates yet, by the way. Well, kind of. I don't know." Stiles shrugged.

"He wants you to be," Erica pointed out.

"I'll bet he's waiting until Stiles is eighteen," Lydia noted.

Isaac nodded. Boyd and Jackson just looked a little bored with the whole deal.

"Wait, wait, wait-- _mates_?" Scott was having a double shot of identity crisis from his spot on the bench. "What the hell? When did this happen? I thought that they could hardly stand each other!"

Jackson gave him a look. "Dude, I don't care about who's banging whom, and I knew they had a boner for each other."

"Oh God, I am not hearing this…" Scott covered his ears and sank down a little in his seat. "My alpha is fucking my best friend!"

"Cheer up," Erica said.

"Derek'll treat him right," Isaac said reassuringly.

Scott did not look reassured in the slightest. "But he's, what, six years older than you are? Eight, maybe? How old is Derek, anyway? This is insane! Absolutely--oh God, don't tell me you guys haven't done in when I've been around. Please don't tell me you did it in your bed. I've sat on that thing recently."

"We only got together after the fight with the alpha pack, so no, we haven't had time to christen my bed," Stiles said, rolling his eyes. "Seriously, Scott, this is not life-altering."

Scott opened his mouth to argue, but any protests he was going to make died in his throat with a kind of hoarse squeaking sound and he went white, his eyes bugging out. Before Stiles could ask him what was wrong, a pair of strong arms wrapped around him and he felt a strong, warm body press against his back.

"You have a problem with your alpha's decisions, Scott?" Derek asked calmly.

Scott snapped his mouth shut and shook his head mutely.

"You could do worse," Erica said, picking up another piece of veggie pizza.

Derek didn't make a sound, but Stiles felt the rumble of laughter in the alpha's chest as it moved against his back. He grinned.

"You gonna join us for pizza or what, sourwolf?" He asked.

Instead of answering, Derek shifted so that he had one arm wrapped around Stiles's shoulders, slipping down into the seat next to the teen and snagging a piece of cheese pizza. Stiles' grin widened.

Scott looked like he might faint.

* * *

"And don't pick up any hitchhikers, no matter how harmless they look."

"Got it," Cassie replied, smiling at her uncle. "I promise, I'll be safe."

Sheriff Stilinski nodded. "I know. Just be good, Cassie."

"Aren't I always?" Cassie winked. She leaned over and gave Stiles a hug through the window of her car. "You be good too, Stiles." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "If you ever need advice about you-know-what, just call."

"Thanks for everything," Stiles replied.

"Hey, I didn't do anything. You two just stopped making everything so stupidly complicated and just admitted it." Cassie pulled back. "Look after that pack of yours. You've got more common sense than the rest of them put together."

"What makes you say that?" Stiles asked.

"They had sex with me." Cassie grinned. "Nobody with half a brain should do that. I'm a voracious, vicious heartbreaker, remember?"

"Goodbye, Cassie." Stiles waved pointedly.

"All right, you're sick of me, I get it, I'm leaving." Cassie laughed. She started the car, waving as she backed down the driveway. "I'll see if I have time to stop by around Christmas!"

Stiles and his dad waved as Cassie vanished down the street in the early morning light. They then turned and trouped back inside, where the Sheriff brewed some coffee and Stiles made himself some toast.

"So what are your plans for the day? Any homework?" His dad asked.

"It's Saturday, Dad. We're all going to hang out at the clubhouse."

"All right. Just let me know when you're going to be home!" The Sheriff called after his son as Stiles tore out the door.

The entire pack would, indeed, be at Derek's--aka 'the clubhouse'--but not for a few more hours.

Plenty of time to slip in a round or two, right? Stiles grinned. If he was quick, he'd be able to catch the end of Derek's morning workout routine--the only time the alpha was so focused on something that he wouldn't notice anyone sneaking up or him, or checking out his muscles. Stiles hopped into his jeep.

Speed limits were more like guidelines than actual laws, right?


End file.
